


sing to me (a lullaby)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Other, Pining, Platonic Relationships, Pre fame, Pregnancy, Secrets, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Unplanned Pregnancy, v mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 05:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: After Roger reveals to his boyfriend he's pregnant, Brian steps up to help out.Oh, and they fall in love.





	sing to me (a lullaby)

**Author's Note:**

> Side note, this is the closest that I'll ever get to writing what most people consider the trope Mpreg to be.  
> Additional side note, I should be working on my other projects.  
> Hey! This doesn't leave where I post it. Please don't show this to anyone portrayed in this fic!  
> Enjoy!  
> Oh ** means it is in the same month page breaks indicate longer

Roger flinches when he hears the door slam. The tears he had valiantly fought back finally start to fall. He sniffles and rubs at his eyes, but they just won’t stop. His hands are shaking. The silence in the house is overwhelming. Slowly he picks himself up from where he fell to his knees in the hallway and stumbles towards the living room where he left his phone. His movements are stiff, and he vaguely wonders how long he had been kneeling in the hallway for.

He hesitates over the number pad, but the thought of being alone in the silence crashes against him. Instinctively he curls into himself, as though being smaller would make things hurt less. Roger swallows as he looks at the contact page. He’s a grown man, he should be able to handle this, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be alone.

It’s late. As soon as his finger hits call, he wants to hang up. He can’t take any more loss tonight. The call connects, and it takes all his will to not break down.

“Roger?”

More tears start to fall, and he sobs in relief at the voice.

“Roger?” Brian repeats, higher and more strained.

He licks his lips and tries to think of words, “can you- I need- please.”

“Are you safe?” Brian asks, “Rog, where are you?”

Roger shakes his head, “my flat.”

“I’m coming over?”

The statement makes his lips twitch up. Of course, Brian would know what he was trying to say and still give Roger the chance to say no to him, even though that’s the last thing he wants to do.

“Do I need to bring anything?”

“No.”

His mild joy fades quickly though. He didn’t want to be alone, so he called the only person that he could think of. What’s he going tell him when Brian starts rattling off questions? What’s _Brian_ going to _say_? Roger knows he couldn’t stand losing Brian, and he almost regrets calling him now. The truth would come out eventually.

He hasn’t said anything, but he realizes that his breathing must’ve picked up.

“Roger?”

“Sorry.”

“Want me to stay on the line?”

Roger hears fabric rustling.

“Are you going to drive?”

“No, Tim’s got me blocked in.”

“Then yes.”

It’s dumb. Roger knows he’s going to see Brian in ten minutes, but Brian’s voice is something he can focus on. He’s seconds away from panicking, but at least with Brian talking in his ear about stars and hedgehogs, he doesn’t feel like he is. The comments on astrology fly over his head, but Roger doesn’t care about the words just that Brian is saying them.

“I’m outside.”

Roger stands and hangs up the phone. He’s shaking but he manages to get to the door and open it. It looks like Brian only tossed on his coat and shoes, he’s in the dark blue cartoon space pants that Roger bought him for Christmas and an Imperial College t-shirt. Brian steps insides, toes off those ridiculous clogs of his, and wraps his arms around Roger. He practically melts in the hug and enjoys that Brian is hugging him tighter than normal.

“You had me so worried.”

Brian says it quietly into the crown of Roger’s head, but he enjoys the vibrations against his cheek from Brian’s chest. Roger tries to burrow himself closer.

“Sorry. I just. I needed you to come.”

“Don’t apologize,” Brian pulls away just enjoy wiping the tears from Roger’s face.

“Can we go sit on the couch?”

“Of course.”

Roger maneuvers out of the embrace, but keeps his hand looped around Brian’s thin wrist. It makes him feel like he can keep Brian in place since he might just walk out of the door (and his life) at the end of this conversation. Brian follows with no resistance and then sits on the couch when Roger pushes him down gently. Roger remains standing, then he sits,  and then he stands again.

The news hits him again and he stumbles back into the couch. He tugs his legs up and wraps his arms around him. It’s the best barrier he can make. Roger catches Brian’s eyes and he sees nothing but worry and kindness. The look is enough that he inhales and lets out a long breath. Words get stuck in his throat.

Brian seems to understand that he’s the one that needs to break the silence, “Where’s-”

“Don’t,” Roger forces out, “we aren’t…together anymore.”

Brian’s eyes widen and Roger lifts his hand in a way to stop whatever words were going to come out of Brian’s mouth.

“It just happened,” Roger feels his heartbeat pick up, “he didn’t like the news I told him.”

He’s so relieved that Brian didn’t pressure him with questions. Brian merely inclines his head, some of the dark hair slipping into his face. Roger wonders how that man could be so patient and gentle.

“I told him that I’m…” _Just say it, Roger Meddows Taylor, and stop being a coward._

His inner voice sounds a lot like Clare.

“I’m pregnant.”

“How?”

The question isn’t unexpected. Roger knows he probably should have explained things before something like this happened. He’s just never had the best experiences with telling people, and he’s never been comfortable with labeling himself. Brian squints his eyes into his “thinking face,” Roger sees him fill in the gaps.

“So, you’re-”

He nods.

Brian lets out a long breath. Roger swallows in anticipation but regrets the action when his stomach flips.

“You’re okay, physically?”

This time Roger is confused.

“He- when you told him, he didn’t _do_ anything right?”

Roger blinks and shakes his head, “he got mad because we had a differing opinion on what we wanted to do, but he didn’t touch me.”

Brian’s shoulders drop, “thank God.”

They’re silent and Roger considers bolting towards the bathroom but then Brian runs a hand through his hair.

“What do you want to do about the… pregnancy?”

“You aren’t going to ask about anything related to…?”

“Is that what I need to focus on?” Brian asks genuinely, “I have questions, but I thought there are other things that needed more attention… tell me what you need Roger.”

“No. It’s just. Most people try to pry more.”

Brian opens his arms in an invitation and Roger greedily takes up the offered space. If he didn’t feel so damn small, he might have been embarrassed about the clinginess, although considering it’s Brian and he already spends half of their time together hanging off the taller man, it’s probably fine. Once he’s settled, Brian tugs him closer and Roger curls into the warmth and safety that always envelopes him when he’s in Brian’s arms.

He plays with the hem of Brian’s shirt. The taller man hums a song he’s unfamiliar with. Now that the worse of the night seems to be behind him, the exhaustion from the stress hits him.

“Why don’t we talk about this after we sleep?”

Roger looks up, unaware he had displayed any signs of being tired, “stay?”

“Well,” Brian chuckles and Roger realizes that he couldn’t get up without tossing Roger off his lap, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

They shift on the couch. Considering they’re two grown men and the couch is rather small. Finally, they settle in a position that has most of Roger’s body on top of Brian, he feels like he’s crushing Brian, but when there are no complaints Roger drops his head to rest against Brian’s shoulder. Brian wraps his arms around Roger’s waist and rubs circles on the small of his back. Roger closes his eyes.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

When he wakes up, the living room is drenched in the early morning light. It’s dim enough that he has to squint to even see Brian’s face. To his great surprise, Brian’s awake and watching him.

“So, last night wasn’t a nightmare,” his tone falls short of joking.

Brian rubs up and down his back, “feeling better?”

“In some ways.”

While he’s terrified and upset, he doesn’t feel like the word is ending anymore. He didn’t expect a miracle to happen, but the tears have stopped so he counts that as a win. Roger also considers Brian staying a win.

“Do you want breakfast?”

Roger shakes his head. There’s an undercurrent of nausea, and if the pattern of the last two weeks repeats, he’ll be sick in about half an hour. Fucking morning sickness.

“I want to keep it,” he blurts.

Brian stills.

“I know it probably isn’t the best idea. It might not even be feasible. It isn’t smart. I’m young and that’s why he left. He didn’t want it. We weren’t together long enough.”

Brian’s hand rubs up and down his back again, “we’ll figure it out.”

Roger stills.

“We?” He squeaks.

“I mean. If you want me to, I want to help.”

“Why?”

Brian almost looks offended. Roger winces because his tone sounded accusatory. As though he thought Brian wanted something out of this.

“You don’t have to. This is my,” Roger doesn’t have the word for this.

“You’re my best friend. If it’s what you want to do, then I’m going to support you. What’s important to you is important to me.”

Roger doesn’t understand how he ended up with such a wonderful human being as a best friend. He assumed that Brian would be around if he didn’t freak out about Roger’s half-admission, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

Brian smiles. It’s warm and comforting and Roger wants nothing more than to curl up again and not leave this position. He lays his head back down and turns his attention to the clock on the wall that doesn’t work.

“I’m scared.”

“That’s okay,” Brian says immediately, “this is a big change.”

Roger bolts upright, “shit, what am I going to do?”

Brian hums, “we’ll figure that out, Rog. You’ve got me.”

Roger shakes his head, “no! The lease isn’t in my name!”

That makes Brian lose his docile look for the first time. He sits up as well, careful to not jostle Roger off his lap. Roger feels his breath speed up again. Brian pulls him back into a hug, and after some minutes, he’s starting to think clearly.

“You’ll stay with Tim and I until you find a new place.”

“Tim won’t mind?” Roger sniffles.

“We’re in a band together,” Brian says.

Roger wants to laugh. The reasoning is so simple in comparison to Brian’s usual complexity. He’s never thought about it, but he realizes now that Brian overthinks everything but emotions. It isn’t to say he falls into anger as easily as Roger, but he feels them and lets himself react to them. If he cares for someone, he’ll go to the ends of the earth for that person. Brian truly is one of a kind.

Roger is glad that his child is going to grow up around a man like that.

**

They go to a doctor two weeks later. Roger doesn’t understand why they need to have the blood test done. There’s no other illness that can account for all of his symptoms (missed period, it’s kind of obvious Bri.) Still, Brian had been adamant and anxious about the entire thing, so Roger agreed on the condition that they could start looking for a new flat.

He’s not going to tell Brian but living with Tim makes him uncomfortable if simply because Tim doesn’t know anything about his situation and refuses to learn what is offensive. It’s nothing to ruin the band over because Tim minds himself whenever Brian is in the room. The last thing he wants to do is add more stress to Brian’s plate. Playing music is the only relaxation he’s gotten in the past (probably decade but Roger can only tell by what he knows) few weeks.

Also, going to a clinic is not what he wants to do on the day he doesn’t have any classes and his scheduled day off from work. His plan was to lay in bed well past noon and then move to the couch for a nap. He was so exhausted, and Brian seemed to be worried about that.

“It’ll tell you how far along you are Rog,” Brian says on the way in, “and if there’s anything else that could become trouble.”

“I told you, about six weeks,” Roger answers in a huffy manner.

“I trust you, but please?”

Roger knows Brian feels bad that he’s forcing Roger to get these tests. Brian doesn’t understand the discrimination Roger’s faced in the past with medical professionals, but unlike Tim, Brian isn’t self-absorbed enough to not know that it’s a thing. Roger leans into Brian as they near the desk.

“We need a pregnancy test done, well Roger does,” Brian says when it becomes clear Roger isn’t going to ask.

The receptionist looks confused. Roger ducks his palm into his head, he doesn’t want to get into the discussion where everyone can hear him. Thankfully the nurse seems to come to the (hopefully) correct conclusion and hands them the form to fill out. Roger takes it.

“Thank you,” Brian says softly.

“You have to buy me lunch as well,” Roger grumbles.

“Of course.”

He wonders if there’s an end to Brian’s patience. Roger steals a glance at Brian whose attention has turned to the news playing on the TV. His face is neutral and not showing the least bit of curiosity at what Roger is filling out on the form. Once he’s finished, he hands to Brian to return to the nurse. They’re called back within five minutes.

The nurse is quick with the blood draw and labels the vial before dismissing them.

Brian briefly tightens his hand around his shoulders, “see, that wasn’t so bad?”

“You’re the one that didn’t get stabbed with a needle.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Roger rolls his eyes because he knows Brian would if he said yes, “no I just want food.”

“What would you like?”

“Hm, fish and chips.”

“Okay, I think there’s a place nearby.”

Roger grabs Brian’s hand after a few minutes, “thanks for coming with me.”

“Always.”

(To no one’s surprised, the results are positive. He’s seven weeks pregnant.)

((Brian doesn’t complain when he ends up getting sick eating greasy food and they have to crowd into the tiny bathroom of the restaurant.))

* * *

Roger decides he hates being pregnant well into his third month. His energy is sapped, he’s _still_ getting sick, and his chest hurts. He also feels like shit because he basically made Brian move their apartment alone because he was so dizzy, he could barely stand half to time. There’s also a string of anxiety that now that they’re alone and living together Brian is going to realize that this is too much for him.

Honestly, when Brian offered to help, he expected the aid to be more along the lines of moral support; not moral and financial. Brian’s even picked up extra shifts at the library and has more tutoring slots. Money is tight, but they’re somehow managing. He’s way better off than if he’d been trying to do this alone. Calling Brian that night had been the best call of the pregnancy so far.

“And with that, the last box is officially in the flat,” Brian pants.

Roger peaks over the back of the couch.

“Hooray!”

He’s happy when Brian comes closer and he doesn’t have to squint to make out his form.

Brian’s pulled his hair back, but curls are already escaping and curling up at fantastic angles. There’s a thin sheen of sweat across his brow and a slight flush to his face. He’s handsome. It’s not like Roger has never had the thought, but it’s never been so present in his head. He shakes his head to clear the thought.

Brian grins, “are you feeling better?”

“Am I still pregnant?”

“The doctor said the morning sickness should start to decrease this month,” Brian wanders over.

Roger narrows his eyes, “I don’t believe him.”

“Okay,” Brian laughs, “do you feel well enough to help me go through the boxes?”

When he tried to sit up a few minutes ago, he was knocked onto his back by the force of the dizziness. Roger is certain that it’ll be the same way again. He doesn’t feel like doing any work either, but he feels guilty about Brian doing everything.

“Come lay with me?”

Roger bats his eyes and pouts, and as every time before Brian’s heaves a fond sigh and comes forward. He lifts Roger’s legs and settles them back onto his lap. It’s comfortable, but not exactly what he wants. Carefully he sits up, Brian reaching over to steady him when he wavers.

“I said lay,” it sounds whiney.

Brian, of course, simply gives in to the demand. Roger pushes him up against the back of the couch and Brian drapes an arm around his waist.

“You can say no to me,” Roger says after a minute.

“You haven’t requested anything outrageous,” Brian replies.

Roger turns, his eyes tight against the dizziness so that he can look up into Brian’s eyes, “oh, and what would be outrageous?”

“Asking me to give up my guitar,” Brian grins.

“Oh? So, you love the Red Special more than me?”

Brian hums, “the Red Special doesn’t complain so much.”

In another time, Roger might be offended, but he understands he’s been demanding and pushy. It’s no wonder that _he_ didn’t want to be the father because Roger has feeling things are going to get worse. Brian’s patience isn’t endless regardless of how much of it he seems to have, Roger knows because he’s been snapped at by the guitarist during rehearsals many times, but his temper is slow burning. He makes a mental note to curb his actions before he loses his only support system. Part of him wishes Tim hadn’t reacted as he had, at least then there would be two people.

Maybe Clare if he ever works up the nerve to tell her.

Brian’s thumb rubs across his forehead. Roger bats at the hand.

“Sorry,” Brian says.

“For what?”

“I thought my comment hurt you.”

“No,” Roger shakes his head, “I know I complain. I was just. I’m so grateful that you stuck around.”

Brian tightens the hug, “you’re entitled to a little whininess, and the only way you’re going to get me to leave you is if you ask.”

Roger dips his head into Brian’s chest, “I’m holding you to that.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**

A few days later Roger realizes that his stomach isn’t as flat as it was. He’s changing after a shower and when he turns, he sees a tiny bump. He thought in the past three months that he had gotten used to the idea of being pregnant, but seeing the physical evidence on his body, the paler skin, bags around his eyes, a _baby bump,_ sends him reeling. His legs give out and he slumps against the wall.

Brian isn’t home, otherwise, Roger is sure that he would come running because as he fell, he knocked over several containers on their sink. He wraps his arms around his stomach. The feeling of the bump (he’s probably exaggerating) reminds him that was a bad idea. He hates this. Hates that his body isn’t as male as he knows he is.

It’s odd because he hasn’t felt like this since he had breasts to get in the way of things.

The panic makes bile rise into his throat. He coughs and sputters and barely makes it to the rim of the toilet. It feels like hours, but he can’t stop dry heaving. Tears run down his face and he feels the drag of his stomach downward (he’s imagining it he knows. The baby isn’t that big yet, but god he hates the conjured feeling). Things don’t stop spiraling until there’s a large warm hand on his back.

He jumps in surprise and clumsily spins around. It makes the dizziness and nausea come back two-fold.

“Hey,” it’s Brian.

His voice doesn’t calm him down for once. How long had he been panicking?

“You’re safe. It’s okay. You’re healthy, the baby is healthy.”

Roger snaps, “it’s not okay!”

Brian rears back, “has something happened? Do we need to call the doctor?”

“No! I hate this. Hate being pregnant. Hate feeling like I don’t have a choice with my body.”

Roger shakes of Brian’s hand. Brian leans back to give him space, but Roger’s gained momentum.

“I feel sick every minute of the day, and every hour I’m spilling my guts into the toilet! School is hard because I’m tired. Work is hard because I’m tired. Music is hard because I’m tired. I can’t drink. I can’t smoke,” he knows he’s falling back into a panic attack, “I can’t do anything because of this damned baby!”

Brian holds up his hands, “I know it’s hard.”

“You don’t know anything! You don’t understand anything!”

Roger surges pass Brian and regrets the sudden movement. He keeps his feet only by pure stubbornness. Tears blur his eyes and the ever-oppressing dizziness is worsened by his lack of oxygen. Somehow, he makes it to his bed before he passes out from exhaustion.

He’s not sure how long he’s asleep for, but he does realize when Brian opens the door. The man is clearly trying to not disturb him, but the smell of food is impossible to mask. Its warmed oatmeal paired with sliced apples, the only thing that he can successfully keep down. Roger rolls over and Brian stills. He must’ve noticed that Roger’s awake.

“I’m just leaving this here,” Brian whispers.

“You can stay… I’m sorry I yell earlier.”

Brian sets the tray down and kneels beside the bed, “is there anything that set that off?”

Roger bites his lip and then pulls the blanket up higher. Brian watches patiently, he knows that if said he didn’t want to answer it, then Brian wouldn’t force him to.

“I have a baby bump,” he shudders at the feeling of anxiety that washes over him, “and I don’t like that it reminds me that I’m pregnant.”

Brian’s head tilts and his eyes squint. Roger is grateful that Brian is near enough that he can see the expressions. It’s always interesting to watch Brian solve puzzles, the way he thinks is so clearly displayed on his face. Roger particularly likes it when he’s stumped, something Roger is particularly good at causing.

“I thought you wanted the baby?”

“I do.”

“But you don’t want to be pregnant?”

“Not really. It reminds me that I’m,” Roger shrugs.

He doesn’t know how to explain it. His body has never bothered him, except for the times that he’s come across as overly feminine (and that stopped being frequent after his top-surgery). This though, this isn’t what he wanted to experience. He hates it.

Although, Brian seems to be catching on, “are you feeling dysphoric?”

Roger snorts, “you’ve been researching.”

“A little,” Brian raises a shoulder and scratches at the back of his neck.

He wonders how many questions Brian’s had that he’s had to answer on his own. Roger wouldn’t mind answering them, but he’s sure that whatever knowledge Brian’s uncovered is more than his own. It’s sweet and entirely a Brian thing to do.

“I’ll get used to it,” Roger says, “I think it just caught me off guard.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“What you did today was perfect.”

Brian grins soft but warm. Roger sits up and makes grabby hands for the oatmeal. The tray is set across his lap. He smiles brightly, and things don’t seem to unbeatable.

* * *

Roger is right about getting used to the feeling. He still hates it, but the panic attacks have lessened over the month since he first discovered he was showing. Although, part of that might because the morning sickness has gotten worse. The good news is that uni has entered summer intermission. The bad news is he’s so exhausted he barely makes it out of bed most days.

Brian is going out of his mind with worry. Roger knows because the man doesn’t stop pacing between crouching and rubbing his back when he makes it to the bathroom.

“Roger, we should go to the doctor,” Brian says for the eighth time that morning, “you’ve _lost_ weight. That’s the opposite of what should be happening.”

He might feel like death warmed over, but he still smirks, “are you saying you’re a chubby chaser, Bri?”

“A what?”

At least he’s stopped pacing.

“The doctor is going to say the same thing he said over the phone last week,” Roger mumbles, “we have to go in next week for the monthly check up anyway.”

Roger wonders when it stopped feeling so novel to have Brian at his side.

“Maybe the kid is just picky,” Roger says after a minute to lighten the mood.

Brian squints his eyes, and Roger wonders what information he’s recalling now. Apparently, the man has become an encyclopedia on pregnancy and child-rearing. The nurse at his OBGYN thinks it's adorable he cares so much. He leans back and rubs at his sore stomach. The whole pregnancy thing wouldn’t be so bad if he could just grow the baby and not have any symptoms. So basically, pregnancy without the pregnancy.

Hands are on his stomach, and he cracks open an eye to see that Brian is crouched in front of him. He has a serious look on his face. Roger raises an eyebrow but otherwise remains passive.

“Hey baby, I know you might only like one type of food, but it’s hurting your daddy.”

Roger barely has time to lift a hand to his mouth to stop the laugh. Brian looks serious, and the entire situation is cute. He won’t admit it, but it is.

“When you come out, we’ll give you all your favorite foods, but for now be nice, ‘kay.”

He hasn’t thought about the after (holy fuck he’s going to have to raise a kid and go to college and become a world-famous rock star) but his mind gets stuck on the idea that Brian says “we’ll give” as though he's not just here for this part, but all of it. Roger doesn’t know what to think about that.

Apparently, Brian’s pep talk worked, because he doesn’t get sick for the rest of the day. Roger rubs his bump absentmindedly later that afternoon while Brian is happily strumming his guitar. It’s the start of a new song because he keeps playing the same segment of chords until the next one fits in the sequence. He likes it, the tone is very folksy-lullaby, something they haven’t played before. Tim will hate it.

“Do you already have a favorite, little one?” He asks quietly.

While Roger doesn’t get an answer, it does start the habit of them talking to the baby.

**

The sickness comes in waves over the next week. Brian doesn’t consider it an improvement, but Roger does because he doesn’t feel sick all day. He still loses the argument to Brian and they must bring it up at their monthly check-up. Roger grumbles as they walk, mostly because the extra weight is starting to give him a waddle. Brian wisely doesn’t comment, but Roger knows he’s noticed.

“Do you want me to go back with you?” Brian asks once they finish the standard check-in form.

“Yes,” Roger leans against Brian’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Back hurts. Little dizzy.”

Brian hums, “but not sick?”

“Not yet.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Roger sighs heavily which alerts Brian.

“I have to pee.”

The statement makes the other man laugh. It’s the newest development in his symptom list and it’s arguably the most annoying. Second most, he corrects, the constant vomiting is the worst offender.

He stands up. Brian is watching him, but otherwise not trying to hinder his ability to move. They had an argument about it last month when Brian kept guiding him around like he was invalid. He has snapped and then proceeded to lock Brian out of his own bedroom for three hours. The man had taken the criticism in stride and now merely watched for any signs of instability. Roger isn’t happy about it, the attention makes him feel like he is going to fall, but Brian did correct the behavior.

Roger nearly runs into someone leaving the bathroom, “oh, sorry, I don’t know why these doors open out.”

The woman waved him off. He notes that she’s heavily pregnant, “oh don’t worry about it. Wait… are you the one with the curly haired man?”

“Yeah?”

“He absolutely dotes on you, you make a lovely couple.”

He doesn’t have time to correct her because she’s already walking away. Roger blinks and then tracks his eyes over the waiting room. Brian is watching the fish, and Roger can’t help the smile that forms, the animal-loving dork is fully entranced with the few fish going about their day. The words the woman said ringing in his ears. It makes sense that she would think they’re a couple but the idea surprises him, more so how okay he would be with Brian being his partner.

He shakes his head to clear the thought. Brian grins when he sees him come closer. Roger’s heart flutters and he sighs _damn hormones._ Thankfully they get called back before he makes it all the way to Brian, and he has time to fix his train of thought. They get taken back, the nurse mostly addressing him while Brian listened intently.

Doctor Abrams gets to them quickly after they run through the vitals.

“How’s everything feel?”

“I’m still pretty dizzy and getting sick,” Roger replies.

“Hm,” Doctor Abrams scans his file, “I see you have lost weight, not a dangerous amount. Are you getting sick every day?”

“Basically.”

“I’ll prescribe you something to help with nausea.”

Roger ignores Brian’s sigh of relief. He’s glad that he’s not going to be quite so familiar with the bathroom. Doctor Abrams reminds him that the baby will probably start pressing on his bladder consistently soon and he groans.

“We’re going to do an ultrasound today, just to make sure everything is clear, I believe my nurse explained this to you over the phone?”

“Yeah.”

Brian perks up. Roger had wanted this to be a surprise. Doctor Abrams smiles at the reaction.

“Traditionally we perform ultrasounds a few weeks later than this, you’re thirteen weeks correct? Since you’re a… nontraditional pregnancy we’d like to make sure everything is okay.”

He keeps his mouth shut. The only nonrational parts of this entire pregnancy are that he’s had top-surgery (which oddly enough doesn’t seem to affect his breasts, they still seem to be growing and they _hurt)_ and the fact that he identifies as male. Everything else is “traditional.” Brian looks so excited either way that he isn’t going to demand this being delayed.

“It may be possible to determine the gender of the baby if the position allows although we’ll have a better idea at the second ultrasound at eighteen weeks.”

Roger looks at Brian, “do you want to know?”

“I’m curious, but it’s your choice.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Abrams checks and box, he smiles as he leaves, “I’ll have a tech take you to the room!”

Brian grins, “what do you want?”

Roger tilts his head, “a baby girl.”

He’s thought about it a lot since he found out. A small selfish part of him wants a girl just to prevent too much of her father bleeding through, the larger part of him has always had a natural inclination for a daughter to spoil rotten. Even when he wasn’t sure that he wanted to get pregnant or have kids, the idea just struck him.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Brian blinks, “well, I don’t think I have a preference either way.”

Roger can’t stop his _hormonal_ brain from picture Brian tossing a little girl in the air with messy blonde hair and big eyes. It makes his heart melt, and Brian tilts his head at the face Roger knows he’s making. The tech enters the room.

“Mr. Taylor, if you and your partner would follow me?”

He glances superstitiously at Brian, the taller man shrugs and offers a hand for him to use to lower himself to the ground. Roger takes it mostly because he wants to rather than he needs the extra help. Although he does wonder why Brian didn’t bother to correct the nurse, maybe because of the term partner? They could still be platonic and raise a kid together. Roger hasn’t heard of anyone doing that, but well, he supposes it happened.

The walk is short. He’s seen the ultrasounds in movies, but he’s never gotten one in person. Brian drops his hand as he hopes up on the bed. It’s strange that he didn’t drop the hand after taking it. Within a few minutes, and a soft yelp in surprise at the feeling of the gel, the tech is rubbing the wand on his belly. He watches the screen curiously and he feels Brian’s hand again.

An odd squelching noise fills the room.

“There’s the heartbeat!”

Roger closes his eyes against the tears that raise up. Brian gently squeezes their hands together and Roger squeezes back. It takes another fair bit of maneuvering, but the tech finally lets out another soft “aha!”

His head whips up to the screen. He can’t make out the differences in the image for a second, but when the tech tilts the screen closer to him, he can make out the tiny baby. Another wave of _oh god this is really happening_ washes over him. Roger glances at Brian who is grinning wildly, and his eyes are darting between Roger and the baby. The tech presses a button.

“We’ll have the image for you on the way out,” she grins, “and congratulations on the baby girl!”

Roger beams.

* * *

Between the pills and Brian’s soft coxing, Roger’s nausea improves over the course of the next month. He’s regained the weight he lost, and he now looks less like a chubby stomached skeleton and more like a pregnant person. Not that he’s thrilled with this development, because he’s starting to feel fat. Arguably the best thing to come out of a decrease in morning sickness is that they can work on their music for more than an hour at a time.

Roger had no idea how desperately he missed drumming with how shitty he felt, and it was easy to see the change in Brian. Tim is also more cordial when they come back, or at least he seems so until Brian steps out to take a phone call.

“So, you’re still planning on dragging Brian down with you?”

“What?” Roger clenches his drumsticks.

“I mean, _you_ won’t be able to continue being serious about music when the ankle-biter comes. Just think about what that image will do to the band.”

“The hell? I’m more serious about music than you’ll ever be. Remember when Brian and I argued to have more than one practice session a week and your response is you didn’t want it cutting into any of your free time?”

“Because I was practicing on my own,” Tim shrugs, “I know where my talent is. I’ve got an offer from Humpy Bong I’ve been kicking around, but I haven’t taken it, so I don’t ruin Brian’s chances of making it.”

Roger snorts, “what a saint.”

“We’d be fine if you weren’t a freak.”

They both look up when the door closes. Brian has come back, and not for the first time Roger wishes he could make out clearly what face Brian is making. Roger ducks down lower behind his kit. He was worried about this exact situation happening.

“Want to repeat that?”

“Brian you can-”

“No,” Brian says firmly, “I want to know what the hell you’re on about.”

He peers over the drum kit. There have only been a few times that Roger’s even heard Brian close to losing his temper, he might be snappish but for the most part he has a tight rein on his anger. Brian moves, sharp and quick to Tim. It’s jarring to see Brian use his size, most of the time he tries to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible, that’s why Roger stuck near him a lot of time.

“What I was saying is that maybe we should consider looking for a new drummer. Roger won’t be able to perform with us for much longer and he can’t exactly bring a wailing brat to our shows.”

 _When you put it like that, it sounds logical._ Roger bites his cheek. He knows Tim is trying to save his own ass because Brian didn’t hear the start of the conversation and doesn’t know that Tim thinks that Brian is going down with him. It’s possible, Roger thinks. Brian has given up so much to help him and this baby, and Smile has suffered for it.

“We aren’t going to find a better drummer in Britain,” Brian says calmly.

The certainty in Brian’s voice makes him blush.

Tim sputters, “he’s not the best drummer in Britain! He’s not even the best one in London!”

“Then take your chances with another,” Brian crosses his arms, “because I’m not leaving Roger.”

“Maybe I will.”

Tim picks up his bass and marches to the door.

“Oh, and don’t ever let me hear you call Roger a freak again.”

Roger has never seen a grown man sprint from a room. To be fair, he’s never heard that tone from Brian before. Once the door swings shut Roger lifts his head again to see where Brian is. The man is still in the middle of the room but isn’t moving. Slowly he makes his way over, careful in case Brian has any residual anger that needs to be released. He picks up Brian’s hand and squeezes it.

Brian squeezes back and opens his eyes, “are you okay?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Roger regrets the words when he sees the heartbreak fill Brian’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Roger, no one deserves to be treated like that. Least of all you.”

“I know,” Roger shrugs, “Tim’s just an ass.”

Brian hums.

“You really think I’m the best drummer in Britain?” Roger asks a little cheeky.

“I don’t think it. I know it.”

Roger laughs and then leans towards Brian. He sighs happily when Brian wraps his arms around him. Brian’s hugs are the best, they’re always so warm and if anything, they make him feel safer as time progresses. Although, he can feel how tight Brian’s back muscles are. Roger digs his fingers into them and massages.

“I can’t believe he said that. He was fine before.”

Tim wasn’t, but it might be easier to let Brian think that.

“He was right about me not being able to play soon,” Roger mumbles.

Brian let’s out a soft breath, “we’re in our early twenties, we still have time. I have faith in us.”

Roger will blame the hormones for the tears that spring to his eyes. Brian, who deals with facts and statistics more than notions of fantasy thinks that they have a chance, so it must be true.

“We don’t have a singer or a bass player anymore.”

“Won’t be hard to find someone who fits,” Brian shrugs, “we could find someone better. Maybe two sperate people.”

“Four’s company?”

“We’d be a proper band then.”

Roger snorts, “being proper is dull.”

“By virtue of that statement, being a rock star is boring.”

“That’s because we aren’t famous yet.”

Roger feels like shit, but maybe he can borrow a little bit of Brian’s confidence for the time being. It’s the right choice when he feels Brian laugh. He loves how light Brian’s laugh is when Roger can feel how it vibrates his entire body.

**

The next few days he discovers that the baby is more active. She doesn’t like it when he lays on his right side but laying on his left side causes pressure on his organs, and Doctor Abrams recommended that he stop laying on his back. He huffs as the baby squirms, he’d been near asleep but apparently, two in the morning is the perfect time to wiggle about. If the feeling wasn’t so _weird_ then maybe he’d be able to sleep through it, but for all intents and purposes, he’s got a human in him that might be starting to get cramped.

Another groan leaves his throat as he rolls onto his left side.

“Mind doing this while we’re all up and about?”

The baby is going to have his talent for selective listening.

Roger turns over when he hears a soft knock. Brian is leaning against the doorframe.

“You okay?”

“I want to sleep.”

Brian drawers nearer, “why can’t you?”

“Baby doesn’t want to sleep.”

Brian lets out a laugh but stops when Roger glares. He scoots over at Brian’s hand on his back applying light pressure and then the bed dips. Roger watches with curiosity as Brian’s other hand flattens against the side of his belly. He leans closer.

“Mind letting your daddy sleep?”

The baby’s squirming has lessened since Brian entered the room. Roger rolls his eyes.

“I’m the one giving her a nice place to sleep for nine-months, and yet she prefers you.”

Brian snorts, “she likes us both equally, but maybe in different ways.”

Roger grumbles something. Brian stays for a couple more minutes, making deals with the baby and encouraging her to listen to Roger more. It’d be funny if he weren’t’ so tired. He still feels the occasional movement and reminds himself that he’s not going to look forward to the days her kicking becomes more frequent.

After a while, Brian pulls back, “better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Brian smiles and wanders back towards his room. Roger closes his eyes, and just before he drops off the baby decides that she’s done being nice and kicks softly. His eyes open and he stares at the wall blankly. He rubs at the place he felt the kick. Brian would be overjoyed that she’s getting strong enough to feel it on the surface.

After another ten minutes of baby macarena, Roger gives up and rolls to his feet. He takes a second to marvel that the fast movement didn’t cause any dizziness. Quietly Roger pads down the hallway to Brian’s room. If the baby wants to only be still when Brian is near, then for Roger’s sanity Brian is going to have to deal with the closeness.

Brian rolls over when the door opens.

“Whass up?” He slurs.

“Scoot.”

It seems like Brian is too exhausted to really question what’s happening and instead complies with the order. He rolls over and Roger steals the spot he leaves. Brian has made it warm, and while Roger has to lay on his right side to keep this as unawkward as possible he thinks it might work.

Or it could have just been the excitement of moving. Roger groans into the pillow as the baby starts moving again. He tenses in surprise when he feels an arm go around his stomach. Brian appears to be asleep, but his hand rests on the belly. After a couple of seconds, it’s clear that just the hand is enough to settle the baby.

“Spoiled brat,” he whispers.

Roger can’t find it in himself to complain too terribly about being cuddled by Brian all night.

The next morning Roger wakes up confused about the arm around his waist until he hears soft humming. It’s unmistakably Brian’s voice, and it sounds like the song he was creating a few months ago. Roger smiles and falls back into the warmth. Brian notices his awake.

“Hm, and why did you end up in my bed?” His voice laced with curiosity.

“Ask the spoiled brat, she acted up after you left again.”

Brian laughs, “so should I assume you’ll be joining me?”

“Just until she stops trying to butter you up.”

“Oh?”

Roger shifts carefully, not exactly excited to wake up the baby and not ready to get up, but he wants to face Brian, “yeah, you’re going to be the strict parent.”  
“I am?”

“I can’t be strict with myself, do you think that I can be strict with a kid?”

Brian rubs his belly idly, “maybe she’s going to be a perfect little girl and never get into trouble.”

Roger raises an eyebrow and Brian grins.

“Okay, well, she won’t get into much trouble.”

His eyes start to droop again between the warmth of the room and Brian’s methodical rubbing on his belly.

“Go back to sleep, we don’t have anywhere to be.”

For a second Roger can pretend that this is a normal family. That Brian loves him romantically and the baby is biologically his. It’s a nice thought.

* * *

They’ve finally gathered all the proper furniture of a decent nursery, courtesy of Ruth and Harold May who have kept Brian’s crib in storage. That had been a fun visit, and he means that truthfully. The Mays were obviously confused by the entire situation at first, but like Brian, they soon began to dwell on the more urgent matter which was the baby. Roger would really like to know when they made the decision that Brian was going to help raise the kid. He knows that Brian said that but seeing it in action is another thing.

He only sees two problems with this entire thing. The first being that Brian is eventually going to find a person he wants to start his own family and leave, ideally that would be when Roger can support himself and his baby girl. His second problem and more recent development is that at some point he has fallen in love with Brian. His brain bypassed all his warning signs of a crush and went straight to heart-fluttering joy-causing consummate love (hey he paid attention in psych!)

Brian sitting in the middle of the nursery with his tongue between his lips and crib parts scattered around him isn’t helping Roger one bit. Roger watches him screw two pieces together and toss them to the semi-completed pile in the corner.

“Are you sure we don’t need to call you dad?’ Roger teases.

“If I can solve complex mathematical formulas to determine the distance of an orbiting object, I can build a crib.”

“I don’t think those two things have much in common,” Roger purses his lips, “and you’ve been at it for three hours.”

Brian turns around just as his baby girl lands a solid kick to his ribs. Roger lets out a soft ‘oof’ of air and Brian is on his feet and hovering in seconds. He looks torn between running for the phone and helping Roger. Knowing what the man is likely to do with all his over-worrying, Roger grabs his wrist and guides it to the spot where the baby kicked.

Sure enough, another kick is placed in the same spot. It’s the first time he’s been able to feel it so clearly. Brian’s face lights up and he lowers himself to his knees, hand still in place. Roger smiles at the sight, he’s only seen Brian this excited when he’s watching the stars. He feels a certain type of special.

The baby kicks Brian’s hand again and somehow the smile grows wider.

“Brian May, will you be the father of my child?”

Silences echoes through the room. Roger’s eyes widen as he realizes what exactly it was that he said. There’s no backpedaling from this. He swallows and looks down at Brian who is staring at him with wide eyes.

“Do you mean it?”

Roger nods shakily, “I’ll have them put your name on the birth certificate.”

“That’s illegal.”

He shrugs, “I highly doubt anyone is going to find out.”

Brian smiles and Roger can breathe again. He feels Brian’s thumb run along the belly again.

“Hear that, little one, I’m your papa!” Brian’s tone is filled with awe.

The baby kicks like she understands. Roger places his hand over Brian’s, and they lock eyes. Brian stands and Roger watches him. He feels a comforting stillness fill the room, and then Brian’s other hand tangles in his hair. They lean in at the same time and their lips meet and _oh._ It feels like he’s coming home for the first time. The kiss is slow and lazy and perfect.

Roger whines as Brian pulls away, but he drops his head to Brian’s chest. He didn’t think that it was possible to be this happy.

“We might have done this out of order,” Brian says.

“Hm, we’ve done in the exactly the way we’ve needed to”

Roger wraps himself in the sound of Brian’s laugh.

**

He notes the changes between him and Brian over the next week. They kiss and Brian gives him more compliments, but the dynamics haven’t changed much at all. He’s thrilled mostly because he gets to raise his child with his best friend.

Brian wraps his arm around him, “morning sunshine.”

“Morning Bri,” Roger leans back.

After a few seconds of squirming, Roger turns around enough to steal a kiss. He looks forward to the day they won’t have to be held apart by his belly, which seems to be growing daily. He feels twice the size he is, and the backache doesn’t help the thought.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“Does it matter what I say?”

Brian hums, “if you tell me what you want.”

“Everything but water gives me heartburn,” Roger groans, “and I’m big enough as is.”

He sighs when Brian gives him a kicked puppy look. The hand rubbing his belly is lulling him into a tired sense of peace. Roger adds soft looks and his own inability to say no to Brian to the list of changes.

“Something light,” he grumbles.

It earns him another peck on the lips before Brain vanishes into the kitchen. Roger follows more sedately. The baby hasn’t woken up yet, and he thanks the world for small miracles because he gets a reprieve from running to the bathroom.

Huh. They don’t have a name for the baby yet.

“Bri,” he draws out the I.

“Yes, love?”

Roger puts that development away for the moment, “we need to think of a baby name!”

Brian sets the knife he was using to cut the fruit down, “you don’t have one?”

“Why would I?”

“I thought you might be keeping it a secret, people do that sometimes.”

“Why would I keep it a secret from the father then?”

Roger can’t help the small smile that forms when he sees Brian light up at the statement. He does wonder if Brian’s just always known he wants to be a father or if this a new development.

“Do you have a list at least?”

“I know I want her last name to be hyphenated and he middle name to be Clare,” Roger replies, “but I have no clue for a first name.”

“Do you have a letter you like? That’s how my parents decided on my name.”

Roger tilts his head, “L.”

“We’ll look after breakfast.”

Brian sets a plate of fruit in front of him and turns back around to pout pancake batter into the skillet.

“I like the name Luna,” Brian comments mildly.

“You would.”

“It’s a pretty name.”

* * *

Roger is almost a hundred percent sure that Luna (the name stuck because they got distracted with each other after breakfast and never looked) would be an amazing footballer with her accurate and strong kicks. His kidneys must be bruised, and Brian has been kicked hard enough to wake up more than once.

Today her target is his ribs, that on top of his lack of sleep and plummeting self-esteem, has ruined any good mood he may have had. Brian is at work, which means Roger has to entertain himself. A monumental task considering his new role of punching bag and a human water balloon.

He balances a mostly blank music sheet on his belly. The first few stanzas are filled with a drum track, but he lost his train of thought and lost the rhythm. He never loses his rhythm! Mrs. May had warned him how absent-minded she had been in the last few months of her own pregnancy. She blamed Brian for it, considering how frequently the man gets lost in his own world.

Roger scowls at the thought of Brian. They had a row before he left for work. Brian had simply suggested that Roger should tell his parents. When Roger vehemently said no, Brian argued that he should maybe tell just Clare. It spiraled quickly after that.

Now he feels like shit, and this time it was without baby-induced annoyance. With no better idea, Roger shoves a pillow under his bell and curls up on the couch. He’s asleep in minutes.

He wakes up when he feels hands running through his hair. Roger blinks and sees Brian’s hazel eyes.

“Feeling better?”

“Am I still pregnant?”

Brian laughs at their private joke, “a little while longer.”

Roger pouts, “I’m sorry for earlier.”  
“I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry as well.”  
He makes grabby hands and Brian leans forward to place a kiss on Roger’s lips. Luna kicks his ribs again.

“Greet your daughter before she breaks me.”

Brian steals another kiss before shifting and kissing his belly, “hello my dear.”

“You’ve saved my ribs.”

“Happy to help.”

He feels a surge of affection. Brian is rubbing his belling and looking so fondly at a baby he hasn’t met. Roger dashes an arm over his eyes. It doesn’t help and more tears fall. Brian notices and quickly wipes the tears away.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m happy,” Roger says softly, “happy that you’re staying and that you love like you’re her biological father as well.”

“Doesn’t matter that I’m not biologically related to her. Ideally, I’m the only one she’ll know as her papa, and I told you that the only way I’m leaving is if you tell me to go.”

“Sap.”

“I’m your sap.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Brian’s face softens, “do you need anything?”

“Cuddles?”

“We’ll have to move to the bed.”

Roger frowns. Brian pokes at his belly, “Ms. Luna already is hogging the couch.”

It makes Roger feel mildly better to joke about his size, but he still doesn’t think he likes being this big. Brian stands and helps him up. He winces because his legs are swollen.  
“I’m okay.”

“How about I massage your legs and then give you cuddles?”

“Babe, you have the best ideas.”

Brian smiles and Roger falls a little bit more in love.

**

Roger hates the birthing classes that Doctor Abrams recommended, he feels so out of place. They’re also a reminder of how scary childbirth is going to be. Brian, of course, took them to heart (the nerd). He rubs at his belly. The class is over, but the instructor called all non-pregnant partners over for a side lesson.

“Its Roger isn’t it?”

He glances up to see a woman who looks even younger than him.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Allison,” she smiles, “I know this may seem odd, but seeing how in love you and your partner makes me happy.”

Roger blinks and glances over to Brian. He smiles as he watches his partner take notes as though he’s in an astrophysics lecture.

“You’re very lucky,” Allison says, “you both are.”

“Very much so.”

“Oh! I think they’re almost done! Good luck Roger!”

He watches her walk back to her bag. The group disbands and Roger wonders which partner Allison’s is. No one moves over to her and she drapes her bag over her shoulder. She walks out of the class. He frowns, he can’t imagine going through this alone.

Brian finishes his string of questions and comes back.

“Ready, love?”

“Help me up?”

Roger takes the offered hand and groans as he stands. His balance is off, and he stumbles into Brian.

“Careful.”

Brian grabs their bad and wraps his arm around Roger’s waist. Roger leans into his side. He feels Brian’s lip press against his temple, “I can’t wait to meet Luna.”

“Only a month,” Roger doesn’t hide the relief, “ready?”

“I’m prepared, theoretically.”

“Thank God you are. Where would I be without you?”

Brian stops and faces him, “you would have been fine. You’re so strong.”

“Not alone,” Roger shakes his head, “I can’t be a single parent.”

They start to walk again.

“Seriously, I was so scared that you would realize that you didn’t want the responsibility of a kid when you’re so young, or that you’d get involved with someone else.”

“I wouldn’t have left you completely alone,” Brian tightens his arm, “and either way you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“My plan to seduce you worked,” Roger jokes.

“This was your plan? Could’ve just asked me out.”

Roger shrugs, “maybe, or maybe I was just trying to get you to take pity on me and fall in love.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one that took pity on me after you saw how gone I was over you and Luna.”

“Oh?”

Brian nuzzles against the crown of his head, “since I’ve known you, and since I’ve known about Luna.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You weren’t single very often, and I didn’t want you to think I was being selfish after you told me about your situation.”

Roger nods along with the first point, “there’s nothing selfish about taking up the second parent slot when you didn’t have to. Especially because of how much you want to be her father.”

Brian presses a kiss to his lips, “only a month.”

“Only a month.”

* * *

Roger spends the last month of his pregnancy filled with anxiety. Brian is also anxious but not obviously so, and it calms Roger for the most part. Although he is admittedly annoyed with Brian because the man is hovering, Roger never thought that he would get tired of being the center of Brian’s attention.

He wishes he hadn’t withdrawn from classes for the semester, but he knows that it’d be less of a waste of money if he didn’t sign up in the first place. Besides, it gives him a solid three months where he can bond with the baby. Roger rubs at the lower part of his stomach which has been aching but doesn’t feel like the Braxton hicks’ contractions he’s felt.

“If you want to come early, I won’t mind so long as you’re healthy.”

The ache doesn’t subside. Roger sighs and rubs a little more vigorously. He hears the door open and close. It makes him sit up and narrow his eyes, Brian isn’t supposed to be home early.

“My last lecture got canceled,” Brian explains, “and how are you two doing today?”

Roger accepts the kiss with a smile, “she might be feeling a little cramped.”

Brian kisses the spot that Roger’s been rubbing, “and you?”

“Like I’m about to pop.”

“Well,” Brian soothes, “that should only be a few weeks away.”

“Weeks?” Roger groans.

“What’s a few more weeks to nine months?”

“Hell.”

Brian smiles wanly, “do you need anything I can get you?”

Roger shakes his head, “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Want cuddles?”

“Too uncomfortable.”

Brian frowns, “I can run you a bath?”

Roger thinks about snapping at Brian to leave him alone, but he knows Brian is trying to help. He doesn’t deserve the anger.

“That sounds nice.”

It doesn’t, but he suspects that the warm water might help with his aches. Brian gives him a kiss on the forehead and vanishes down the hallway. He hears the water start to run.

“Lavender or rose scent?”

“Rose.”

Brian makes a noise of confirmation. After a few minutes, Roger manages to push himself to his feet and waddle down the hallway with one hand splayed along his back. Brian nearly bumps into him.

“Bath is ready.”

Roger leans up the best he can, and Brian bends down. Their lips meet in a sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” Roger grins.

“Anything for you,” Brian places another feather-light kiss on his forehead.

Roger bats his eyes, “bathe with me?”

He gets another kiss to his cheek, “of course, let me go grab clothes and toss some blankets in the dryer.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“Gladly.”

He strips down and avoids looking at himself in the mirror. Brian’s only managed to take a few photos to document his pregnancy, the rest of the time he doesn’t like how it makes him look. Roger tests the water and notes that it’s a perfect temperature and soft rose scent wafts to his nose. Five minutes pass and Brian returns with two stacks of clothes and bare-chested.

“I figured you should get in first,” Roger shrugs.

Brian nods and climbs into the tub. Once he’s settled Roger joins him. It’s a little more of a struggle but eventually, he settles with his back to Brian’s chest. He hums in relief as the aches slowly start to dissipate.

“I didn’t know I needed this,” he says lightly.

He sighs when he feels Brian’s fingers digging into his shoulders. The tension starts to ebb away. Roger leans back and closes his eyes, Brian circles his arms around Roger’s stomach.

“I’ll be happy when we can do this without my stomach in the way of things,” Roger hums.

“Hopefully Luna will let us have alone time,” Brian sets his chin on Roger’s shoulder.

“Eh, your mom already volunteered as a primary babysitter.”

Brian laughs, “we shouldn’t abuse it though.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be too attached to Luna to let her leave our sight, your mom is the one going to be kidnapping her.”

“Ah.”

Roger tilts his head and kisses the underside of Brian’s jaw.

“We’re ready for this, right?” Brian asks.

“I think so.”

**

For a moment he’s not entirely sure what woke him up. Roger frowns into the darkness. Brian isn’t cuddling him, but he’s still in the bed. He shakes his head and then feels another tug from somewhere in his abdomen. Sighing he swings himself out of bed and resigns himself to another night of pacing. Roger leaves the bedroom and wanders into the living room where he starts to pace around the square of furniture.

His back gives another twinge, and as he leans back, he feels something wet run down his legs. He stares at the small puddle uncomprehendingly then another sharp tug runs under his belly and his mind catches up with what’s happening. Roger blinks, he must’ve been in the early signs of labor all day and he just wrote it off.

“Brian!” He yells and pitches his voice so more anxiety bleeds through.

There’s a loud thud and a few seconds later a bleary-eyed Brian slides into the room. Their eyes meet and Brian blinks in confusion when he doesn’t see an immediate danger.

“My water broke,” Roger says helplessly.

If he weren’t freaking out, he’d laugh at the journey Brian’s face makes as he tries to wake up and process the news.

“oh.”

“Oh.”

“OH!”

Roger rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to get the bag, can you manage to get to the car?”

“Yes,” the word is pitchy.

Brian bolts out of the living room. Roger waddles towards the front door. He’s rarely seen Brian so energetic, and to his surprise, he’s barely in the entry hallway when Brian moves past him and opens the door. He hears the car start and the Brian is back in the entryway.

Roger grabs his hand and they slowly and carefully make it to the car (Brian’s thank god). Brian drives faster than he would normally dare, especially one-handed but Roger has commandeered Brian’s hand in case of another contraction. He doesn’t think he’s close to being in true labor, but he also knows that it’s getting closer. They make it to the hospital in record time.

Brian helps get him checked in and grabs his hand one last time, “I’ll be back soon.”

Roger rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you’re in no danger of missing the labor.”

In the distance, he hears a nurse coo and Brian once again moves at a brisk pace. Roger is glad that Brian seems to have an idea of how to handle the sudden stress. He’s wheeled back to a room, while a nurse rattles off questions he really didn’t know he was supposed to know the answer to. They get him settled on the bed and another doctor, a female, checks his progress.

“Only dilated a centimeter,” she tells him, “we have a while yet.”

Roger isn’t exactly thrilled with the news, but then Brian enters the room, and everything finally calms down from a hectic rush to just chaotic. Brian smiles apologetically at the doctor and navigates to Roger’s side.

“How are you?”

“Literally the same since you saw me ten minutes ago,” Roger snarks.

Another contraction hits and he groans in pain. Brian automatically offers his hand. When it passes the doctor recommends that getting up and walking would help.

“The contractions aren’t close, but I don’t imagine this is going to be a long labor.”

Roger nods. Once the doctor leaves, Brian helps him stand. They make one track around the ward before Roger declares he wants to go back into the bed. Brian stays with him, a string of reassuring words. He keeps hold of the guitarist's hand as another contraction hits.

“Oh fuck.”

“Hush, you’re doing great.”

Roger glares but Brian doesn’t see to mind the look.

The doctor returns twenty minutes later, “three centimeters.”

“Seriously?” Roger sighs.

“You’re progressing at a very quick rate,” the doctor assures, “I’d give it another three hours before we’re ready to deliver.”

Roger slumps against the pillow. Brian sends him a sympathetic look.

They do get up a few more times, but the pressure in his lower back is building. When he gets to five centimeters, he asks for the epidural. The doctor smiles and calls for the anesthesiologist. Brian still coos a list of sweet nothings while the anesthesiologist sets the catheter and stabs him in the back with a very large needle. He squeezes Brian’s hand hard enough to make the other wince.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Brian says, “squeeze as hard as you need to.”

The next few hours pass in much the same way. Brian alternates between speaking in calm tones and singing whichever song pops into his head. The doctor will come in and check his dilation before assuring him it’ll be soon.

“I think I’ll graduate uni before this baby decides to come,” Roger grumbles at the eight-centimeter mark.

“She wants to arrive when she wants to,” Brian mumbles.

“Drama queen.”

Brian chuckles, “she already takes after you.”

To his credit, Brian does allow Roger to smack him across the back of his head.

He panics when the doctor assures him that it’s time to start pushing. Roger glances at Brian who looks nervous, but outwardly calm. Brian squeezes his hand.

“We’ve got this, only a little bit longer before we can officially meet our daughter.”

Roger bites his cheek against the rising panic so that he can listen to the doctor’s instructions. He forgets how the classes told him to breathe. Thankfully Brian draws his attention and begins mirroring the action.

“Fuck, this hurts.”

“You’re doing wonderfully.”

“If you ever try to knock me up, I’m going to knock you out,” he growls when a particularly harsh contraction hits.

Brian simply nods.

“Oh, she’s crowning!”

Roger sends another panicky look.

“Just a little longer, Rog, you’re beautiful.”

“Now, give me one good push.”

He knows that he’s bruised Brian’s hand with how much he tightened his grip. His voice goes higher than even he knew it could as he yowls in pain.

“That’s it!” The doctor encourages.

Roger’s mind disconnects from his body for a second and is brought down when he hears a sharp cry. Brian is looking away from him for the first time tonight. He closes his eyes and just wants to _sleep._ He’s never felt this exhausted in his life.

“We just need to deliver the placenta, Mr. Taylor, and then you can see your child.”

Roger whines, which brings Brian’s attention back to him, “wonderful job. Only a few more moments, and you can meet her. God Rog, she’s beautiful.”

That gives him the encouragement he needs. Exhausted and sweaty, it is only a few more minutes before a tiny green bundle is placed in his arms. Roger can already see faint wisps of blond hair and when she finally opens her eyes, they’re stormy gray. The doctor reminds him that they may get darker. He doesn’t mind, because she’s still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Brian leans over him and strokes her hair gently. Roger manages to tear his eyes away from his baby girl to glance at Brian, who to his great surprise has a tear running down his face. He adjusts Luna and reaches up to swipe the at the wetness. He gets a fond smile which only grows fonder when he yawns.

“Get some rest, love,” Brian reaches down for Luna, “we have a lifetime.”

Roger smiles a dopey grin and closes his eyes and falls asleep.

* * *

When the spring terms arrives, Roger picks up online classes, just so he can work on his degree but still stay at home with Luna. It doesn’t stop him from frequently visiting Brian between his classes once the weather turns warmer. Luna gets fussy when she doesn’t see her papa in hours, and Roger is valiantly avoiding going stir crazy. He laughs when Brian immediately says goodbye to his classmates when he sees him standing in the Quad.

“How are my two favorite people?”

Roger hands Luna over to Brian who nuzzles her and makes cooing noises.

“We’re just wandering, waiting for a certain someone to get out of his boring lectures.”

Brian ignores the comment.

Roger rolls his eyes and sneaks a hug. Luna tugs on Brian’s hair which earns her a wince.

“Someone is feisty,” he comments.

“She’s been fussy all day, it took me ten minutes to even get her started on nursing this morning.”

Brian frowns, “do you think she’s getting sick?”

“I think she’s just a baby and being contrary.”

“Mm, she _is_ your daughter.”

Roger smacks him on the arm, “she’s yours as well.”

Brian grins.

Luna eventually settles down and looks around at the bright colors of the quads, grabbing Roger’s offered finger.

“Have a good day?”

“I think one of my professors is actively trying to kill me,” Brian says dryly, “why are you assigning a ten-page essay due date on the same day as an exam. Why?”

Roger shrugs, “learning about dust is dangerous.”

Brian narrows his eyes, he opens his mouth when a voice cuts him off.

“Excuse me?”

He leans around Brian to see who was speaking. It was a man he’s never seen before, with the oddest teeth alignment he’s ever seen. Roger wonders if Brian knows him somehow because Roger would remember someone as unique as the man in front of him.

“Can I help you?”

“I don’t mean to intrude, but I was curious about Smile.”

Brian glances to Roger and shrugs.

“What about it?”

“Is the band finished or are you on break?”

Roger purses his lips. They hadn’t spoken about it much during his pregnancy, but he knows that Brian wants to continue. He wants too as well, but they aren’t going to have the time to rebuild the band before Luna is in primary school.

“Well, we’re really on break,” Brian answers and raises Luna slightly as an explanation, “but our lead singer quit.”

The man seems strangely pleased by the news. Roger tilts his head.

“Well, you’ll need someone new.”

“You’re offering to join with a band that isn’t active?”

“I followed you when you were performing routinely,” the man nods excitedly, “you’d be a fool to not notice you two have something special.”

Roger is smug at the thought that Tim isn’t included. Brian lights up at the thought of someone complimenting his guitar. He makes a mental note to have him play for Luna and him later.

“Thank you,” Brian says, “but again, we won’t be performing really for six months at least, and unless you play bass, we’ll need to find someone who can.”

“Six months is plenty of time to write a new set list and practice,” the man waves his hand, “and we can find a bassist easily.”

Brian glances over to Roger, who shrugs. He’s excited about the idea, and the man seems confident about this.

“Two things, we don’t even know what your name is or if you can sing,” Brian points out.

Roger tilts his head in acknowledgment of the statement.

“Freddie Bulsara,” he answers.

Then he bursts into Doing Alright. Roger really isn’t surprised that this is where the conversation has led, but he is surprised by how powerful Freddie’s voice is, how well all three of them blend together, and the fact that Luna seems to like Freddie’s voice as well. Rather, it sounds nice enough for it to catch her attention.

“Okay,” Brian says.

Roger nods because there’s not much else to say.

Smile is officially back in action.

* * *

Honestly, Freddie might be one of the best things to happen to him and Brian. The man has graduated from college so he can spend his time minding a stall in Kensington and coming up with new songs, not to mention he’s become unofficial babysitter number two because he absolutely adores Luna and Luna likes grabbing at his lips and hair. It’s a win-win.

By the time the fall term starts, Roger is more comfortable going back to classes. He’s officially a part-time student and now works with Freddie at the stall, it’s nice because the owner doesn’t care if there’s a baby in the stall and Roger gets separation anxiety.

“The sign of any good parent,” Freddie says as though he has experience with it.

Roger snorts, “figure out how to get a bassist that wouldn’t mind also being a babysitter?”

“We’ll hold auditions of course,” Freddie claps his hand.

Luna makes grabby hands at Freddie and the man bends down so that she can grab at him and stand. Roger smiles and sneaks a picture.

“But when?”

“Two Saturdays from now, I have a friend that can keep one of the music rooms on campus open.”

Roger nods, “I think we can manage. We’ll have to have Ruth watch Luna.”

At her name, Luna turns and raises her arms. Roger bends down and picks her up, “oh, you’ve gotten so big.”

“I’ll let Brian know,” Freddie replies.

Roger tosses Luna up slightly, “thanks. I’m sure he’s excited to get back to performing.”

“I’m sure you are as well,” Freddie says, “hope you’ve been practicing?”

“Every moment I can get away with.

Freddie laughs, “if you want, you can take off early, I can’t imagine we’ll get a flood of customers soon.”

“Thanks, Freddie, you’re the best.”

“I know.”

“Luna, say bye-bye to Freddie.”

Luna raises her hand and babbles, it’s close enough. Roger laughs as he waltzes through the store to the employee locker room. Brian should be getting home just before him, which means that they can cook dinner together. Not that Roger is much help, but it’s a habit he’s missed since going back to school.

He unfolds the stroller and straps Luna in after pulling on another sweater (its fall he doesn’t want her to catch a cold). Roger wants to ask where Freddie keeps finding baby clothes, but he won’t argue that it makes his daughter even more adorable. They make it back to the flat in a reasonable amount of time, there was a lack of cooing old women who seem to be both surprised at how cute the baby is and the fact that it’s the father taking care of her. He doesn’t feel like opening the can of worms, but it does annoy him slightly.

Roger hates that they have steps leading up to the flat, but with months of practice he’s able to get the stroller up them with the least amount of wobbling. He pants at the top, but Luna giggles happily.

“You’re going to be a lazy girl, aren’t you?”

She babbles in response. Roger smiles and pulls her into the entryway. Quickly he undoes the straps and listens for where he can hear Brian digging around in the kitchen.

“Ready to say hi to your papa?”

A happy squeal. Roger hikes her high on his hip and wanders into the kitchen. Brian turns around, and Roger doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how happy Brian is to see him at the end of every day. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but none of them were as loving as this.

Brian walks over to them and steals a kiss from Roger before placing a light one on Luna’s head.

“You’re home early,” Brian comments.

Luna tangles her fingers in Brian’s hair. Roger laughs.

“Freddie released me early.”

“That’s nice, I was planning on making lasagna.”

“Oh, sounds wonderful babe,” Roger grins, “mind taking her while I put her stroller up?”

Brian takes Luna and blows a raspberry in her neck. She makes happy babbling sounds and tugs on Brian’s hair.

“Ow,” he whines.

Roger laughs and goes back to the entryway to close the stroller and store it in the closet. Once he’s done, he reenters the kitchen to see that Luna is still tugging. He takes a photo of it before he moves to save Brian from his hair being knotted. Luna isn’t overly thrilled with being taken from her papa so soon. Roger shushes her.

“Thankfully she’s not prone to tantrums,” Brian comments once he’s sorted out the tangles.

“My mom always told me that I cried at the drop of a hat,” Roger shrugs.

Brian ties his hair into a ponytail (it’s more fluff than tail) and reaches out for Luna, who goes back into his arms happily.

“Did Fred message you about the auditions?”

“Yeah, mom said that she can stay until three or so, then she has a wine tasting? Or book club?”

“Same thing,” Roger shrugs, “we should be able to manage that.”

Roger watches Brian bounce around the kitchen with Luna for a few more minutes before his stomach rumbles. Brian hands Luna back to him.

“Okay, I get the hint.”

“I’m going to go put her on her mat,” Roger says.

“Bring it in here,” Brian calls.

“Sure.”

He doesn’t know how his life turned so domestic so fast, but he loves it.

**

Roger wonders if this is a waste of time. The bassists that they thought were worth it, didn’t like the idea of having to work around a young kid. They had one more to listen to before they call it a day. Freddie looks dispirited, and Brian looks bored. He understands, but they need this last one to be something special.

A gangly young man enters. He can’t be much younger than Roger, and he has hair longer than even Brian’s. Although he’s awkward and shy looking, Roger knows that’s not a breaking point considering Freddie is the shyest person he’s ever met, but Freddie has confidence.

“And you are?” Freddie asks warmly.

“John Richard Deacon.”

Roger manages to avoid rolling his eyes.

“And what will you be playing for us today?” Brian asks.

“I’m actually doing a Beatles cover and then the remaining time something I’ve written.”

He notices that the other two perk up.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Roger says.

John flies through the bass of St. Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club, and then Roger blinks at the sudden transition into a rift he didn’t know. Roger watches the fingers move up and down the fret and pull at the strings in ways he would never think of. Brian is staring as well. Roger automatically begins tapping out a rhythm to it.

“Keep it going,” he says.

John repeats the chords a few times but keeps the rhythm long enough for Roger to get behind the drums. He wishes he had tuned them beforehand, but for his purposes, this will serve. He and John sync automatically. From his new vantage point, he can tell that Brian is itching to play because his hands are twitching on the table. He sees John look up in surprise and then shifts his riff, Roger catches it and matches the temp.

Freddie calls it after five minutes.

“Well, obviously he likes you. Brian?”

“Yes.”

“I agree. One more question,” Freddie holds John’s eyes, “these two have a young child, that they’re obviously going to put first, does that bother you?”

“Not at all,” John says.

“Well,” Freddie glances between the two of them.

Roger can’t help himself, “welcome to the band!”

John blinks, “just like that?”

“Did you not hear what you two did?” Brian asks.

“I thought he could do that with anyone?”

He snorts, “I can match anyone’s beat, but it never sounds that good.”

John ducks his head. Freddie practically vaults the table and wraps an arm around John who looks startled.

“Please don’t scare him off, Fred,” Brian says, “I’m Brian by the way. The limpet is Freddie, and Roger is the drummer.”

“Yes, now, you must meet the most important member of the band!”

Roger and Brian share a confused look.

“Luna!”

They laugh.

“Luna?”

“Our daughter,” Roger explains, “mine and Brian’s no matter what Fred claims.”

The singer pouts. Between Roger and Brian, they manage to put the room back to how it was when they entered. Freddie is regaling John with many stories of the future. The bassist still looks nervous and Roger gets Brian to pry Freddie away from him for a minute.

“Don’t let Freddie overwhelm you,” Roger smiles, “he’s excitable.”

“I can tell, but I am happy to be able to play with you all. I only caught one concert with Smile before you guys went on hiatus. Guess I know why now.”

“Babies tend to be distracting.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed.”

John says it so dryly that Roger almost believes him, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“You and I will get along great.”

They manage to get the equipment and all four of them in Roger’s old van (his father gave it to him as a gift, he of course bought a better car the first chance he got). He drives mostly because Freddie can’t, and it gives Brian time to get to know John. The conversation doesn’t stop flowing the entire time and Roger can’t help but think that it’s a good thing they’ve all hit off so well.

Ruth pulls a semi-annoyed face when they arrive.

“Ten minutes to spare, Brian Harold.”

Brian rubs the back of his neck, “sorry, you can go now. Roger?”

He nods and runs up the stairs stopping to give Ruth a kiss on the cheek before entering the house. Luna is chewing on one of the toys, he crouches down by her and makes sure that its one that’s meant to go in her mouth. She drops it as soon as he picks her up. He bends down to give her the slobbery toy (ew). Ruth is lecturing Brian on being punctual while Freddie cackles.

The Ruth turns the lecture on to him about punctuality as well “I’ve heard the stories, mister.”

Roger decides to save his boyfriend and best friend, “thank you for today.”

Ruth smiles, “anytime. I do love seeing my granddaughter.”

She pinches Luna’s cheek, and thankfully the toy doesn’t touch the ground, but Roger has to catch the thing again. He grimaces.

“I’m off. Have fun boys. It was nice to meet you, John.”

John waves dazedly.

“She’s a whirlwind,” Brian replies.

They enter the house. Luna notices that there’s a new person and hides her face in Roger’s neck.

“Luna, say hi to John, he’s going to be coming ‘round a lot.”

Brian indicates that John should come over. John carefully steps over and after a couple of minutes of hovering, Luna seems to relax. Roger gestures for John to hold out his hands and he does so nervously.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

He takes Luna, and the baby immediately yanks on his long hair.

“Congratulations! She likes you,” Freddie laughs.

Brian winces in sympathy, “although you may want to tie your hair back.”

Roger takes a step back and absorbs the scene. John fits in it nicely, with Luna happily tugging on his hair. Freddie almost falling off the stool laughing and Brian hovering incase their baby gets dropped. He sneaks out his phone and takes a picture of it.

If this band thing doesn’t work out, at least he’ll have gotten a family out of it. Once he’s certain John can multitask with the hair pulling and baby holding, Brian wraps an arm around his waist and kisses the top of his head.

“Told you we’d figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> FUUUUUUck ing hell that was so much longer than I wanted it to be. But as I always say, let the story develop naturally and write it how it wants to be written.  
> I'm exhausted.  
> There's a second part floating around in my head. Who knows when that'll show up.  
> As always leave your thoughts below! HMU @sammyspreadyourwings.


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